


i've got an itch to scratch, i need assistance

by toastandjammies



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27608924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastandjammies/pseuds/toastandjammies
Summary: "Come here, you numpty. Turn around," he gestured, not quite believing he was doing this.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Comments: 23
Kudos: 78





	i've got an itch to scratch, i need assistance

**Author's Note:**

> silly little fic inspired by [this tumblr post](https://abbys-little-whippersnapper.tumblr.com/post/633250120777007106/imagine-your-otp). title from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. not beta'ed.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?" 

Thomas had poked his head into the boot room in search of Jimmy, and found him standing there with one arm cranked awkwardly behind his back, face twisted into a grimace. 

Jimmy straightened a little to glance at Thomas. "Me back's itchy and I can't reach, this bloody livery is too...bloody...tight," he grumbled, twisting his arm this way and that, eyes darting around looking for something to use as a scratching tool. Thomas tried not to laugh at the sight of Jimmy finally deciding on the door frame and rubbing his back against it in an up-and-down motion, like a bear scratching its back on a tree. 

"Stop that, you'll ruin your jacket." He winced at how much he sounded like Carson. "Come here, you numpty. Turn around," he gestured, not quite believing he was doing this. But then again, he was a man with simple needs and any chance to touch Jimmy he would take. 

Jimmy turned his back to Thomas with an impatient whine. At the feeling of the other man's fingers raking across his back, Jimmy groaned, one hand braced against the door frame, and Thomas had to bite his lip hard to distract himself from the images forming in his head. He quickly pulled his hand away after two more thorough, business-like scratches. "There. Better?" 

"Much better, Mr. Barrow." There was a heavy pause as they stared at each other awkwardly. Finally, Jimmy nodded, looking a little dazed as he murmured a 'thank you' and hurried out the door. 

_Well. That happened._ He couldn't for the life of him remember why he was looking for Jimmy in the first place. 

\--- 

A few days later, Thomas and Jimmy were sitting in the servant's hall late at night, the last ones up as usual. It was uncomfortably warm for the time of year so they were both in their shirtsleeves, waistcoats undone and jackets draped over a chair as they smoked. 

From the corner of his eye Thomas could see that the other man was fidgeting and wriggling in his chair, and he looked up from his book. "Are you quite alright?" 

Jimmy had abandoned his card tricks and was using a two of hearts to scratch underneath his stiff collar. "No, I'm...argh." He threw the card on the table and arched his back, arm twisting behind his shoulder. "Did the laundry maids start using a new detergent or summat? Everything is so bloody itchy all the time and it's driving me insane." 

Thomas blinked. "Not that I know of, but I can ask tomorrow if you want." He shot Jimmy a sympathetic smile. 

"I want-" A blush spread across the footman's cheeks. His voice sounded small. "Could you..? Like in the boot room?" 

He was asking him to scratch his back. _He was_...Thomas's brain needed a good few seconds to catch up. Once it had, he cleared his throat and gave a short nod, getting up to sit in the chair next to Jimmy's. "Where, um, where's the itch?" 

"Just, ah," he paused as Thomas started scratching between his shoulderblades. "There. Everywhere." Jimmy shrugged off his waistcoat to give better access and Thomas's eyes widened comically for a brief moment. Men didn't often undress right in front of him, least of all _Jimmy_. 

By now Jimmy had drooped forward on top of the table, groaning into his arms as the underbutler scratched his back. "'s good, Thomas," he slurred. Thomas dutifully continued scratching, dragging his nails across Jimmy's back in a random pattern, trying not to get too aroused by the sounds coming from him. When he woke up this morning he hadn't expected his day to end with Jimmy begging "harder" and "please Thomas" and "ah yes, right _there_ ", but who was he to complain? 

It had gotten late, and Thomas was now more or less rubbing Jimmy's back instead of scratching, hand lingering a little too long but unable to stop himself. There was a gentle, quiet intimacy about the way Jimmy let Thomas touch him, and he was afraid to break the spell and discover that he'd actually gone too far. But Jimmy was soft and pliant in his chair and shot him a grateful smile as he finally moved to sit up, not quite looking at Thomas but not about to run for the hills either. He cleared his throat and bid Thomas good night, grabbing his waistcoat and jacket and heading for the stairs. 

"Night, Jimmy," Thomas said softly, eyes following the footman until he was out of sight. He cleared away their things and went to bed. 

\--- 

Thomas had asked about the detergent, but it was the same one they had always used, and he began to suspect Jimmy just enjoyed getting scratches. He was like a cat, Thomas smiled fondly to himself. And he'd happily take care of him. 

Jimmy never asked outright again, but he developed a habit of standing slightly in front of Thomas, nudging him a little with his shoulder. Thomas caught on quickly, his fingers giving a quick scratch wherever he could reach, dropping his hand before anyone could notice. Soon, Jimmy didn't even have to ask for it anymore, and he always gave an almost imperceptible wiggle, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet after Thomas had run his fingers along his back. And every time Thomas tried very hard not to grin. 

One time when Jimmy was sitting at the piano, and Thomas was standing next to him, chatting, he gathered all his courage and raked his nails briefly along the back of Jimmy's neck as he passed behind him to get to the ashtray. He hadn't expected Jimmy's full body shudder, accompanied by a soft gasp and a bum note on the piano, and it took all of his strength to maintain a neutral face. 

Jimmy clearly hadn't expected his own reaction either, as he blushed furiously and fled to the kitchen shortly after. 

\--- 

After the incident at the piano, Thomas had expected Jimmy to keep away from him for a while. It would hurt, but he'd understand. He could keep a respectful distance if it meant keeping his friend. He was surprised when Jimmy came to him that same evening as he was having a smoke outside, stood next to him, and wordlessly nudged him with his shoulder.

Thomas's heart swelled. 

Jimmy acted as if nothing had happened, and Thomas ended up absentmindedly dragging his nails down Jimmy's back as they smoked and talked about their day. Thomas thought he would never be able to express to him how grateful he was that he could have this, these casual, loving touches that Jimmy clearly enjoyed, asked for even. It was a level of intimacy far beyond what he had had with other men and it made him love Jimmy a little more each day. 

As Jimmy finished his cigarette and tossed it into the dark, he slowly turned towards Thomas. He was looking at the ground, but his face was very close, their noses almost touching, and for a brief moment Thomas thought he was going to kiss him. Jimmy looked conflicted, a frown creasing his brows, and he swallowed audibly as a he briefly pressed their foreheads together, still not looking at Thomas. Then, sucking in a breath, he straightened. "Can I come to your room later, I need to ask you something." 

He hadn't really posed it as a question, but Thomas nodded anyway. "Yes, of course, anything," he breathed. 

Jimmy nodded curtly and walked off. 

\--- 

Thomas was waiting in his room, pacing in his pyjamas. It was late, and he wondered if Jimmy would still come, or if he was too afraid to explain what the hell had happened outside earlier that night. 

There was a hurried knock, but before Thomas had a chance to react Jimmy was already inside, closing the door softly and leaning against it. His hair was in disarray and he was in his undershirt and pyjama bottoms. Looking wonderfully disheveled, he took a deep breath and moved to stand in front of Thomas. His eyes were cast slightly downward and he was biting his bottom lip, and Thomas had to fight the urge to take it in his mouth. He still wasn't entirely sure what Jimmy wanted, but he clearly wanted _something_ , so he tried to keep still, not wanting to spook him. 

Then, as they were standing so close Thomas could feel Jimmy's breath on his cheek, the footman gave his shoulder a nudge. Thomas automatically reached his hand around Jimmy's back and ran his fingers along his spine, and a blissful expression lit up Jimmy's face. This was the least amount of layers Jimmy had ever had on since this whole thing started, and Thomas could feel the firm muscles of his back through his undershirt. Unable to resist, he reached his other hand around and ran both down Jimmy's back, and suddenly Jimmy arched into him, his arms coming up to cling at Thomas's shoulders. 

"Yes," he hissed, his cheek to Thomas's, his mouth close to his ear as he pressed his body closer. 

Jimmy was hard. Thomas could feel his cock through their thin pyjama bottoms. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming, but then Jimmy's arms tightened around his neck and he arched into him again with a sigh, and he knew this had to be real. Moaning softly into Jimmy's hair, he slid his hands underneath his shirt to feel the bare skin of his back underneath his fingertips. He kneaded the muscles, nails lightly grazing before pulling him closer, feeling the full length of Jimmy's body warm and firm against his own. Trailing kisses along his neck and jawline, he finally captured his lips in a languid kiss. Jimmy responded eagerly, head tilting and lips parting in invitation. Thomas thought his knees might buckle at the feel of his tongue sliding greedily into his mouth, and he instinctively gripped at Jimmy's back, nails digging into the skin. 

Jimmy pulled back a little and groaned loudly, staring open-mouthed at Thomas as he wantonly thrust against his thigh. "Thomas," he moaned, raising his arms in a silent plea. 

Thomas happily complied, pulling the undershirt over the footman's head and tossing it behind him. He took a moment to drink in the sight; the lean, toned body, the wild hair, the red mouth, the heaving chest, the outline of his cock clearly visible through his pyjamas. He looked positively sinful. Part of him thought they should probably talk about this, but his brain wasn't doing any of the thinking at this particular moment. 

Jimmy seemed to be in a similar situation, hands twisting in Thomas's shirt, dragging him closer. Thomas let his hands roam freely, confident now in the fact that Jimmy wanted him to. His hips rolled lazily and he reveled in the small noises the other man was making because of his touches. His own cock throbbed with want as it pushed against Jimmy's. "God, you are just...you're stunning, you are," he murmured. 

Jimmy was staring at him hungrily, impatient as always, and dove back in for a kiss. "You," he breathed, hands cupping Thomas's face. "I...I think I'm in love with you, Thomas. No, I _know_ it. I, ah, I love you." His eyes were wide with awe at his own revelation. 

Thomas would have cried if he hadn't been so aroused. "You only say that because I give good back scratches." 

He smacked his shoulder and smirked. "Bastard. Maybe." He leaned in for another kiss, but suddenly his cocky demeanor dropped and he looked a little unsure of himself. "You love me, don't you, Thomas? Please tell me, I can't..." 

"Of course I still love you, my darling boy, I couldn't stop if I wanted to," he replied, taking Jimmy's hand and kissing his fingers tenderly. "I love you so much." 

Jimmy looked a little awestruck. "Alright. Good." Relief painted his features, and his eyes twinkled. "I think I may have some more itches to scratch, Mr. Barrow," he smiled mischieviously, rolling his hips. 

Thomas grinned, dizzy with happiness. "You know I'm always happy to be of service, Mr. Kent," he breathed, emphasizing his words by dragging his nails slowly down the other man's bare back. 

Jimmy growled, rushing forward for another heated kiss as they tumbled into bed together. "Please keep doing that, I love it when you do that." 

"Hmm, I figured," he murmured, nipping along Jimmy's jaw. 

They ended up on Thomas's bed in a tangle of limbs, rutting their hips together while they kissed. It was juvenile, needy, and sloppy, and Thomas adored every second of it. Jimmy's tongue delved deep inside his mouth, his hands wildly fumbling for any part of Thomas he could reach, pushing his shirt up as far as it would go and running his fingers through the dark hair on his chest. Thomas's had one hand on Jimmy's arse, urging him on, the fingers of the other buried in his golden head of hair. 

"This won't last long," he gasped. 

"No, it won't," Jimmy laughed breathlessly. The movement of his hips became more erratic. "Need this, need you now, please." 

Thomas had just enough brain function left to work both their pyjama bottoms down their thighs and bring one hand between them to palm Jimmy's cock. He was already leaking, slick and hot in Thomas's hand as he gave it a few quick jerks. 

Jimmy looked frantic, babbling against the other man's mouth. "Please, I'll go mad, Thomas, _please_." 

Thomas formed his hand into a tight circle around both their cocks, and Jimmy immediately started thrusting with a deep moan. The friction was almost too much, and Thomas felt himself getting close. "Yes, love, come on. Come for me." 

For a moment, Jimmy's body went entirely still, before arching and shuddering his release all over Thomas's cock. Thomas cursed as the slickness of Jimmy against his sensitive skin pushed him over the edge and left the both of them in a sticky, blissful heap. 

Wiping his hand on the blankets, Thomas tried to rearrange them both on the small cot. Jimmy's body was limp, mouth working silently against his neck, and he grumbled a little as Thomas pulled his pyjamas back up.

"Hmmpf, leave it," he murmured, trying to cuddle closer to Thomas. 

"Shush, you ninny, you'll get cold," Thomas replied fondly, endeared by Jimmy's post-coital grumpiness. He rolled onto his back and pulled Jimmy close, one hand in his hair and the other scratching lightly between his shoulderblades. He thought he heard Jimmy purr a little, and fell asleep with a goofy smile on his face. 

\--- 

Thomas didn't notice the claw marks on his back until the next morning, while he was getting dressed for the day. He smirked, and when he told Jimmy about it later all he got was a shrug and a cheeky grin in response. 

"You scratch mine, I scratch yours."


End file.
